


Think I'm Falling

by HarrysHook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3321533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarrysHook/pseuds/HarrysHook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pseudo-Coffee Shop AU. Killian Jones catches the eye of the beautiful Emma Swan every morning on his coffee break. Will his fragile heart be able to handle falling so hard and so quickly for this stranger, or will she end up ripping it open again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

8: 54 am Monday through Thursday. 

 

That was precisely the schedule Emma Swan visited the local diner before work. She ordered a medium hot chocolate to go and a breakfast sandwich with bacon on Mondays and extra sausage the rest. Killian Jones wondered every day as he sat at the counter drinking his mid-morning coffee if that knowledge made him a stalker. Possibly, but when you’re sat next to the same person every day at precisely the same time what they say becomes easy to remember. Especially when they fall from soft, red lips that curl gently at the edges.

 

Today was no different. Killian was swirling the foam on his coffee when the tell tale bell on the door rang promptly at 8: 54. Don’t stare, he thought, and it took strength to not glance up at her when she settled into the barstool next to him. One of the waitresses, branded ‘Ruby’ by her name tag, bounced up to her, having put in Emma’s typical Wednesday order. Killian had gathered they were friends, and, to the chagrin of the stuffy, wrinkled owner of the diner, talked mercilessly during their brief time together. 

 

Killian tried to tune them out, taking a hard drink of the steaming coffee. It burned his throat but it only aided to wake him; he licked his lips, the fatigue from working leave his muscles. There was movement beside him and the faintest whiff of cinnamon, indicating Emma’s order had arrived. He turned his head just in time to glimpse her elbow clip the bag that held her sandwich as she stood. Instincts flaring in him, Killian’s hand shot out and he caught it, but his body froze in shock.

 

Her reflexes were faster than his and instead of catching stiff, brown paper in his hand, his fingers wrapped around hers, which clutched the bag. Killian noticed the surprise in her gentle green eyes when she looked up at him and it sent his heart pounding, 

 

“I uh.... Sorry.” He stammered nervously. 

 

“Thanks.” She dismissed his apology with a smile when he found it in himself to wrench his fingers off hers. She left him staring blankly at her empty seat, cheekbones bright red in shock. The chilled smoothness of her skin lingered on his fingertips and he rubbed them against his thumb. Gods, he was such a creeper.

 

A laugh next to his ear jolted Killian from his mortified trance and he turned to see Ruby leaning over the counter, uncomfortably near him.

 

“I never thought I’d see Mr. Silent-but-Deadly so stunned.” Her bright, red lips parted in a sly grin, laughter still clinging to her words.

 

“W-what?” Killian exhaled, face scrunching in confusion. His breathing was returning to normal but human interaction was making his heart thump again.

 

“That’s what we call you; all silence and smoulder.” She chuckled again when she stood to gather a dish towel from the bar behind her. He didn’t know how to process that information so he gazed at her curiously. She took his silence as an invitation to keep going.

 

“Lord you look like you’ve touched a ghost. Imagine what a handshake would do to you. Or a kiss.” That smart smirk again. Killian couldn’t allow himself to admit how easy it was to imagine the scenario,

 

“Why would I do that?” He guarded, his voice regaining much needed stability, “I don’t know her.”

 

“Oh, but you want to. You watch her everyday out of the corner of your eye and wait until she drives away to leave, no matter how long she spends in here.”

 

Killian flushed and dropped his eyes to his thumb tapping nervously on the rim of his cup, “Is it that obvious?”

 

His voice was a pathetic squeak, coercing a laugh from the waitress, “Painfully. Waitresses see all from the corner of the room.” Her voice dropped to a cryptic whisper, followed by another chuckle. He chewed his lip to stop from smiling and scratched the back of his ear.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” He sat back on the stool with a lop-sided smirk, “She wouldn’t notice me anyway.”

 

The waitress returned his expression, “Not even if you had a wingman?”

 

An eyebrow shot up on his forehead, “You?”

 

Ruby pouted, “Oh come on, I’ve known Emma since we were little.”

 

“But why would you help me? You don’t even know my name.”

 

“Okay, what’s your name?”

 

“Killian.”

 

“Well Killian, I want Emma to be happy, and she seems to like you.” 

 

He felt his heart flutter against his ribs, trying to escape in his joy. He gave a thick swallow, blood rushing back to his cheeks, “She... does?”

 

“ _Duh_... what woman wouldn’t?” She scoffed motioning at him, “You’re _gorgeous._ ”

 

A nervous laugh escaped him despite the burning in his hears, “Thanks, I suppose.”

 

There was a distinct throat-clearing sound coming from the old woman at the register. She was glaring at them with scrutiny. Ruby rolled her eyes,

 

“Guess that’s my cue.”

 

Killian pushed his near empty cup toward her, “I should probably head out too.”

 

“Just try talking to her tomorrow, okay?” She whispered as she took it.

 

“Aye.” He nodded and smiled his thanks as he stood and shrugged on his leather jacket.

 

Killian climbed into his delivery truck and scanned his list, but tossed it into the passenger seat with a sigh. Slumping in his seat, he dragged a hand over his face to try to process everything that had happened. 

 

_He was a bloody idiot. How the fuck could he do that? He’d grabbed her hand against her will; that was form of assault, right? Ruby had said she fancied him, but he doubted it now. Hell she’d barely spoke after he had held her hand for eons. Didn’t even meet his eyes before rushing out the door._

 

Furious with himself, Killian slammed his fist on the wheel, causing a sharp honk. 

 

_Now Ruby wanted him to **speak** to Emma? Pft, yeah, no. _

 

He turned on the truck and backed out the parking lot.

 

_What should he even say? **"Sorry for assaulting you yesterday but I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world."** He cringed to himself, he’d be an actual stalker then. Maybe he shouldn’t even take his coffee break tomorrow._


	2. Day Two

During the night, clouds had rolled up from the southern coast. Chilled rain fell at a gloomy pace as Killian woke at the first light of dawn. By the time he retrieved his truck and the day’s deliveries, the town smelled of spring ocean. The sharp nip of salt in the breeze shook sleep from his bones and in moved a faint sense of home. The gut-wrenching memory of his mortifying encounter with Emma filled his night. Where he’d dream of meeting her on a moonlit beach or in the forest on a warm, summer day, anxiety and embarrassment plagued his sleep. It made him determined as he woke that he would not take his morning coffee break.

Yet, the familiar hum of drowsy rain on his truck lulled cold into his skin. His nose and ears reddened and there was the faintest wisp of steam on his breath each time he stepped out to deliver a box. The icy drops of rain clinging to his mussed hair fuzzed his brain and before he protested, he scrambled inside the warm diner. His soaked scarf made the back of his neck sting with frostnip as he relished in the heat. He shrugged it off along with his coat and hung it on the same peg he did every day. It wasn’t until he made eye contact with Ruby that he realised what he’d done.

Killian slid into his seat when she caught his eye, ringing in his usual coffee order. He swallowed hard around the anxiety rising in his throat and glanced at the clock. 8:50. Four minutes. _Four bloody minutes_ to compose himself.

“I was worried you wouldn’t show up.” Ruby’s whisper next to his ear startled him. Killian leaned away so she could wipe down the counter, her eyes glancing toward the shrewd woman behind the register.

 

“I almost didn’t.” He admitted, looking away from her eyes, “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk to h-”

 

“Nuh uh.” She cut in, her wolfish grin widening, “You have to. I already told her to prepare.”

 

His eyes widened and his breath quickened, “Wh-why?”

 

“Because she asked about you.” His heartbeat hurt his ribs.

 

Before he found a response, the bell on the door rang and the clock ticked to 8:54. He flushed as Ruby scurried away to the kitchen before anyone noticed her with him. The ominous clunk clunk of boots on the tile floor followed by the sound of the barstool next to him being pulled out was jarring; his heart in his throat made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

 

_Fuck, fuck, **fuck**_ ; Killian repeated in his head until he didn’t know if he was saying it out loud or not. The only distraction was his coffee sliding into his hand. He looked up, hoping to see Ruby there to save him, but it was a tired man who looked like he didn’t even want to be there. He’d asked Emma for her order twice, apparently forgetting the first time. She tried to be patient, but there was bite as she repeated herself, gloved fingers drumming impatiently on the counter. Killian took a hurried sip of coffee, wincing as it seared his tongue.

 

_Okay, Killian. 1...2...3…_

 

He turned to face her but no words came out of his mouth; when she turned around, he was staring dumbly at her.

 

_Oh God say something!_

 

“Uh..Hi.”

 

“Hey.” She returned, a smile playing her lips that didn’t reach her guarded eyes. Her cheeks were rosy and Killian’s eyes fixed on the way her lips cracked in the cold air. He swallowed,

 

“I’m- sorry about yesterday.” 

 

There was a flicker of confusion on her face before her smile widened, “Oh yeah, you saved my sandwich.” She brushed a stray strand of damp, golden hair clinging to her forehead behind her red ear.

 

Killian breathed out a nervous laugh, “You had it handled by yourself.” Ears burning, he had to look away from her forest-green eyes.

 

She returned his laugh and stuck out her hand, “I’m Emma.”

 

_I know,_ he thought, but forced the words back down his throat, “Killian.”

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

Her hand was warm against his fingers, still red from the chilled rain. She pulled her arm back after they shook and he worried he might have lingered too long. He was about to choke out something like _‘Likewise’_ , but the waiter returned with her order just before the word rolled off his tongue.

 

Emma thanked him and double-checked her order before turning back, “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you around?”

 

It was a question, and her lingering gaze had Killian fighting back a smile, “Yeah.”

 

An eyebrow quirked on her forehead and she nodded. He watched her as she grabbed her jacket off the coat hanger and walked out into the downpour. Ruby was watching as well from the window to the kitchen and beamed at him. Killian sent her a grin back, but couldn’t shake the odd, sinking sensation in his gut.  
He took another gulp of his coffee; he’d done it. Months of sitting next to her every day, he’d finally spoken to her. Yet, the twisting in his stomach made him want to retch. Not nerves, just... intuition, waves crashing against him. Something was just wrong.

 

Maybe she only agreed to speak to him because she felt bad for him. Perhaps he had disappointed her as she'd expected him to be different. Or she and Ruby were trying to humiliate him for some unforeseeable reason. Killian gave his head a sad shake, beads of water splashing onto the counter.

 

Like clockwork, Ruby strode up to the other side of the counter just as he emptied his cup. He glanced up at her, and her smile fell,

 

“What happened?”

 

“I don’t think she was thrilled to be talking to me.” Unexpected bite sharpened his words and he looked back down at his empty cup, “I mean, I think this was a mistake.”

 

“Come o-”

 

Killian raised his hand and shook his head, not wanting to be in the diner anymore. The warm air trapped inside was growing stuffy and he couldn’t breathe, but Ruby cut in anyway when he stood,

 

“There’s going to be a party here on Saturday. Eight PM. She’ll be there... you should be too.”

 

Without a word he gathered his jacket and scarf from the rack and pushed his way out to the cooling rain. Frigid air is easier to breathe and Killian felt his heart and lungs returning to their normal rhythms. Anxiety had been a crippling point in his life for a long while and the passed two days, it had broken through years of barriers he’d built to keep it at bay. 

 

Rubbing water from his eyes, Killian slid into his truck and slammed the door. The truck shook, and a few large drops of water on the windshield came loose. He watched them as they slid down the glass, leaving blurry, melancholic trails behind like tears. 

 

Here he was again, sitting in his truck outside the diner hating himself. Thank god tomorrow was Friday. His shift would be later in the day and he could avoid the diner all together. 

 

Better to cut the throat on this anxiety now than let it become routine.


	3. Day Three

_“Killian?”_

_The mutter came to him dull, garbled as if underwater. A meaningless dream to any other, but to him…_

_This was a memory. One he’d pushed to forget during the day but that haunted his dreams when the sun dipped out of the sky._

_“Milah?” He mumbled in return, the name sleepy on his tongue and muffled by the pillow his face snuggled into. His lover clutched the back of his white t-shirt, fingers tugging weakly,_

_“Killian.” Her voice was urgent now and he rolled over, rubbing the dreams from his eyes, “Yes, love?”_

_Silence._

_“Milah?” He repeated, turning on the lamp at his bedside table._

_She lay next to him, on her back as she usually slept, dark hair tossed around her and blue eyes watching the ceiling._

_But something was wrong._

_Her hand had not moved from where she’d released his shirt. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wasn’t moving._

_She wasn’t…_

_Breathing…_

Killian jumped awake for the third time that night, sweat making hair cling to his forehead and chest heaving in panic. It had been four years since Milah’s heart attack but the memory of his lover's lifeless body still occasionally plagued his nightmares.

As he finally gave up wrestling with sleep, he realised it plagued his reality too.  
9 AM he lifted himself out of bed and on any other Friday he'd wonder if Emma noticed his absence at the diner. Today, however, the blonde angel that had caught his eye didn’t even cross his mind.

The grief settled in when he pulled on a pair of trousers and the white t shirt he'd not worn in four years glared at him from the back of the closet. When he brushed his teeth and combed his hair, her drawer in the bathroom sat empty and cold. Her mug still hung on the same peg in the wall when he made coffee (he only ever made it on Friday), black like she’d liked it. Her favourite necklace hung from his rear-view mirror and the cross charm rattled on the chain when he slammed the door of his truck shut.

All tiny reminders of how cruel the universe was. How he’d thrust his life into his job. Sure, delivering mail and boxes may not be the best job, but driving for hours on end every day allowed him the liberty to escape the universe. To discover and explore the shortcuts and the back alleys and hide from the cloud of misery hung over his head.

Killian pulled into the lot outside the warehouse at 11, hours earlier than his typical Friday shift, but no one questioned as he walked into the garage. They’d all grown used to it. Little John slipping an extra bar of chocolate in the passenger seat of his delivery van; Tuck helping him load his boxes into the back; his mate Robin clapping him on the shoulder and passing him a “secret” special package of the “utmost importance”. 

They all just knew.

And despite their friendliness and respectful silence, Killian was glad to be on the road, leaving the garage and the people behind. 

The sky was a muddled mess of light blue and melancholic dark grey as he turned down the winding wooded roads, mirroring his eyes as they threatened more rain. The knot in his chest slowly unwound with each stop, and by 2 in the afternoon, Killian was munching on one of Little John’s chocolate bars, enjoying the spring breeze flowing through the open windows.

The truck chugged to a stop as he parked outside the sheriff’s station, the next stop on his route. Expecting a special delivery. Killian lifted the small, white package, stamped with some seal he didn’t recognize, and walked it carefully to the front desk.

The man that greeted him had a thick beard, a bald head and eyes in permanent judgmental squint. They stood in silence for a moment, Killian awkwardly waiting for instructions,

“Uh...delivery for the sheriff.”

“I.D.” Killian slid the order paper across the counter. The man regarded it with a frown and nodded.

“Yeah alright, their office is just down the hall. On your left.”

“Thanks.” Killian nodded and slid down the narrow hallway. The doorway on the left was a few feet down, but large and open, widening to a room complete with a small office surrounded in glass and two cells on the far wall. A nest of desks sat in the middle of the room, a woman sitting at the center of them speaking to a man sat across a couch near the cells.

Their voices were loud, as he could hear them before he reached the alcove, but kind and cheerful, brightening his spirits. They laughed, and as Killian lingered outside the doorway, he found he recognized that sound.

Something twisted in his chest, his heart, maybe his lungs as he found he couldn’t breathe when he saw those sunshine curls tumbling over the back of the chair. The man had noticed him first, as she was facing away from him, and she followed his gaze to where Killian stood frozen. His stormy blue eyes met her forest green and he felt his knees start to buckle.

“Is that the files we ordered?” The man asked, rising from the couch. Killian jolted at his sudden proximity and nodded, handing him the package, 

“Sure?” The man didn’t seem to notice how Killian’s voice squeaked, hurrying to a desk and tearing open the box as quickly as he could. But Killian wasn’t paying attention, forgetting the clipboard tucked under his arm waiting for the sheriff’s signature. The woman was standing in front of him now, holding out her hand,

“Hey, Killian?” She voiced his name as a question and his heart thrummed hard in his chest. He nodded, shaking her hand, her skin smooth and soft as he remembered,

“Emma, hey.”

A smile graced her lips as she withdrew her hands and slipped them into her jean pockets, “So you’re a delivery boy.”

He blushed, glancing at his boots, “Aye. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She quirked an eyebrow and that’s when he noticed the sheriff’s badge hanging from her belt,

“Well I see you didn’t vote for me.” She laughed, and in spite of his embarrassment, he grinned at the beautiful sound. They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before the other man cleared his throat, staring daggers in their direction,

“Emma.”

“Right, do you need like a signature or something?” She waved off her partner’s glare and smiled at Killian again.

“Uh...yeah.” He passed her the clipboard and she scribbled her name on it before passing it back to him, “Thanks.”

“Well, I’ll see you around, Killian.”

“Yeah, see you.”

He couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face as he walked back through the lobby, the depression in the back of his mind forgotten. The man behind the desk glared at him, but he didn’t care. Killian felt on top of the world.

The high was only just starting to die down when he pulled back into the warehouse parking lot at 8 that night, frowning as he noticed Robin’s truck still in it’s spot next to the door. As long as he’d known him, Robin has been a partier, and would never be working at 8 on a Friday. But sure enough, the man sat on the still conveyor belt in the center of the room, a beer in one hand, as Killian backed his van into the garage.

“Killian!” Robin saluted him with a raise of his bottle.

“You’re still here?” He raised an eyebrow, taking the beer offered to him.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” The smile fell from his mate’s face and the air in the room became uncomfortably serious, “You seemed pretty upset this morning.”

After a few heartbeats, Killian nodded, “Yeah.”

“Is it Milah?”

The question threw him off-guard and he stared blankly at his friend. Robin took the silence as a cue to elaborate,

“I know that it can’t be easy for you, Killian, but it’s been four years.”

That it had been, “I know.”

“So you’ve got to let her go, mate.” He whispered, voice full of concern. He placed a strong hand on Killian’s shoulder and shook him lightly.

Any other day, Killian would have been fighting back tears at the thought. Milah had been his high school sweetheart, his first love, his everything.

But all he could see when he closed his eyes for a moment were green eyes gazing back at him, golden hair and a soft, timid smile.

“I’m working on it.” He said eventually, with an unbidden smile. Robin grinned and clapped him on the back,

“Good! You should come to the party at Granny’s Diner tomorrow. Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

He rolled his eyes, “You mean you want me to be your wingman.”

“Are the two mutually exclusive?” Robin hopped off the belt, “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“Don’t forget to bring me roses.” He teased, and his friend laughed as he walked out.

Killian sighed and took a long drink of his beer, the smile still not left his face. Maybe he finally could let Milah go after all.


	4. Day Four

_“Killian?”_

_Oh God not again. He couldn’t be having this dream again._

_No, he thought when he felt the telltale tug on the back of his t-shirt,_

_“Killian.”_

_His hand found the switch for the lamp on his nightstand and he couldn’t stop it. Heart drumming painfully against his ribs, his body rolled onto it’s side. He sucked in a breath, waiting to see the body lying next to him._

_Yet forested eyes stared back at him. Not dull, lifeless blue, but sleepy and green looking up at him. A strand of golden hair fell lazily over her nose, dusted with soft freckles._

_“Emma?” He breathed lightly, tucking the hair behind her ear with a hesitant finger._

_She muffled her giggle by tugging the blanket up, under her eyes and his heart squeezed. He opened his mouth to say something, what he wasn’t sure, but a startlingly loud beeping blared in his ear._

Killian’s eyes flew open at the sound, heart racing again, phone on the pillow next to him screaming beeps into his ear.

Groaning as he sat up, turned the alarm off and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. Orange sunset rays filtered through his blinds and groggily warmed the room. The digits of 6:30 glowed ominous red from his phone’s screen, rousing him from his nap. The dream clung to his eyelids, pulling him back to bed, but he fought it, remembering Robin had invited him to that party at the Diner and would be to pick him up shortly.

Killian showered quickly and dressed in a dark navy button up and black jeans, dark hair tossed to the side and stubble trimmed to a minimum. It wasn’t until Robin knocked with a long beat on his wooden apartment door that he remembered the words uttered to him before he left the diner Thursday morning,

_There’s going to be a party here on Saturday. Eight PM. She’ll be there... you should be too._

Smile plastered on his face, heart thrumming hard, Killian yanked on his leather jacket and threw open the door. Robin mirrored his cheeky grin and lifted a half-crumpled, just picked dandelion in his hand,

“Your flower, my lady.”

Killian snorted a laugh and punched his mate in the shoulder as they rushed to his truck outside.

“You’re in a good mood.” Robin noted as they turned out of the parking lot, “What’s up?”

“I can’t be excited to go out with a friend and have a few drinks?”

“Maybe meet a few ladies?” He waggled his eyebrows with a sly smirk and Killian chuckled.

“Something like that.”

They were silent for a moment, until he saw Robin glance his way, “What?”

“You have someone in mind?”

Killian chewed his lip, wondering if he should really say, but his silence only goaded on his friend,

“You do! Who is she?”

“Uh…” He scratched idly at the edge of his sideburn, “the uh...the sheriff?”

Robin whistled, “She’s a nice lass. Not bad looking either. Bit out of your league though, don’t you think?” Killian tried to ignore his wink,

“Aye, probably.” The car grew silent as they pulled up in front of the diner, the sound of drunken merriment and soft music floating through the open windows. Tuck waited for them outside, a non-drinker and their designated driver, and held the door open as Killian rushed inside.

The diner looked much different in dim light, filled with random clusters of people and it took a moment for Killian to squeeze through to the bar, ordering spiced rum.

“Killian, you’re here.” He turned around, coming face-to-face with Ruby, her eyes wide in surprise. He grinned at the familiar face, 

“Yeah!” Her eyes darted nervously around the room and his brow furrowed in confusion, “You said I should be here.”

“Yeah, it’s just-” She ducked around a wayward elbow. “I didn’t think you were coming!” The smile on her red lips was unconvincing, but she hurried into the kitchen before he could ask about it. 

Frowning, he took a sip of his drink and pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered to get more drinks to find a seat and wait to glimpse that golden hair that sent his heart thumping.

It was her, however, that noticed him first, catching his elbow as he shouldered by her booth,

“Killian, hi!”

“Emma!” It took a moment to recognize her as she yanked him into the space beside her, lips bright cherry to match her tight dress. Killian swallowed hard when he finally pried his eyes away, “You look...amazing.”

Emma blushed and he grinned, gaining some of his much-needed self-esteem, “Thanks, what are you doing here?”

 _I’m here to see you_ , “My friend invited me.”

“Oh good, I was worried you were by yourself.” Oh lord, she wanted to drink with him.

Killian felt blood rush to his cheeks and sparks light in his gut, “You don’t have to worry about me, love.” The look of surprise on her face at his sudden confidence only bolstered it; fingering his glass, he slid farther into the booth,

“I must confess, I was hoping to see you here tonight-”

“Emma, who is this?”

The sudden voice behind him made Killian jump and turn, face flushed. A man leered down at him, his hair mussed and auburn, with pointed canines glowering from his tense smile.

“This is my friend, Killian.” Emma’s voice was stern, a warning as he felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Friend?” The man scoffed, sliding across from them in the booth, “You’ve never mentioned him.”

She ignored the comment, instead turning to him with a smile, “This is Walsh.”

“Yes, the man you’re supposed to be on a date with.”

Killian’s heart plummeted in his chest; his eyes widened and his mouth fell open but he didn’t care.

This was all a joke.

Emma squeezed his shoulder and he slowly turned to face her, still struggling for words. Regret lined her emerald eyes,

"That's not true, we're all just friends here."

"Inviting your ex to a party doesn't sound like just friends to me." Walsh laughed cruelly, making Killian's blood boil. Instincts to punch this wanker in the face flared in him, but he swallowed it.

"Walsh." Emma warned, but Killian was already making to stand.

"Sorry to disturb your evening," He said through clenched teeth, "It was nice to see you again, Emma."

"Killian wait-" but he'd already shouldered his way through the center of an increasingly obnoxious group of men. 

Fuck life, he growled to himself as he ordered a refill on his rum, Of course the only woman he'd fallen for in four years would be taken. And of course he'd finally get the courage to come on to her on her bloody date.

"You." Killian heard behind him two and a half drinks later. He turned, head starting to get fuzzy, and saw Walsh's leery gaze inches from him.

"What do you want?" He spat, taking another sip.

"I saw the way you look at her."

"So what?"

"So stay away from Emma."

"Piss off, mate." Killian huffed, turning his back. Mistake.

Walsh gripped his shoulder in strong fingers, forcing his body back around,

"I'm not playing games, _mate_."

"Are you threatening me?"

"You better believe I am."

" _Piss off_." He repeated, setting his jaw.

“Whoa, is there a problem here, boys?” Robin’s voice sounded concerned around the slur in his words somewhere behind Walsh.  
Killian held the stranger’s cold gaze as he replied, “No problem here.”

Without a word, Walsh pushed away from him, shouldering his way back into the crowd. Killian straightened his collar and took a triumphant chug of his rum while Robin snatched the seat next to him, a dark-haired woman in-tow.

“Who is this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

Robin grinned, glancing between them, “Killian, this is Regina Mills.”

It took him several blinks and a moment of squinting to recognize the town mayor through the blurring of his vision, but it was in fact, Regina Mills, holding her hand out to him.

Robin knew he liked the sheriff so he brought the bloody _mayor_ to drink with him. Killian shook her hand timidly and she smiled a bitter-sweet smile, “Hello.”

“Hi, Madam Mayor.”

“So, Killian, did you meet anyone yet?” He could tell Robin’s head was nodding in the direction of Emma’s booth. He shook his head, not bothering to look at how he knew she was charming her date,

“No, I think I might head home early, actually. Looks like you don’t need your wingman, eh?”

Concern touched Robin’s eyes where his smile couldn’t, but he remained silent as Killian dismissed himself and headed for the door. The air was chilled, and as he turned his collar up against the cold breeze, slender fingers found his wrist and pulled him into the dark, outside seating area.

“There you are…” Emma breathed, relieved, inches from his face. Her proximity affected him more than the alcohol, but he forced away the fire in his skin where she still gripped his wrist.

“Emma, what are you doing?” 

“I wanted to apologize; Walsh is a bit of an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Killian had meant to laugh, but his voice was too stern, “but I hope you’re happy with him.”

It was too late now, the flash of hurt in her eyes forced his own to look away. He pulled his wrist from her loose fingers and turned away, swallowing hard. As he sulked through the gate, Killian could feel her eyes on him, and another pair, burning his back from the window of the diner. He glanced up, and caught Walsh’s fuming gaze.

 _Fuck him_ , he thought, but the man’s brown eyes bore deep into him, like fangs sinking into his heart.


	5. Day Six

Sunday had been a stress-free day; Killian spent it avoiding his phone where Robin had drunk texted him several times during the night to make sure he was alright.

He was, or at least he had thought he was, because pulling in to the garage Monday morning had his heart aching again. But that was fine, right? He didn’t have to take a coffee break at the Diner. He didn’t have to see the sad emerald eyes that lingered in the corners of his vision like a terribly depressing reminder of his own rejection.

Of course, the fates would not be so merciful. As Killian skimmed over his list of stops, he saw a package that was to be delivered to the Diner’s address. At 9 am sharp, no later. Exhaling through his nose, Killian pulled up in front at his usual time. Maybe he could linger outside until he saw her leave. 

_No, duck in and duck out before anyone notices you._

He grabbed the box from the back of the truck and jogged inside, not bothering to take off his coat. Ruby was the first to make eye contact with him, and he held it firmly, ignoring the blonde at the counter. He handed the waitress the package and she signed for it without a word, the awkward heat rising in his cheekbones.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, but it was too much; Emma turned to him in the corner of his eye.

“Killian?”

 _No, dont_. But he couldn’t help turning toward her. He wanted to run out, to say he really had to get back to work, but the words garbled in his throat and came out as,

“Hi.” _Fuck._

“I was worried you wouldn’t be here.” Her eyes were shooting a question through him. Forgive me? Of course he did. He’d forgiven her the second he was humiliated because it wasn’t her fault. It was Walsh’s. But how could he explain that to her?

“Well, here I am.” He tried a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“When do you get off work?” The question threw him off-guard and he blinked, puzzled,

“Uh, 6… why?”

“Come to the station.” She held his gaze a moment in silence before standing, “Please.”

He hesitated, unsure what to say. Why did she want him to go to the _sheriff station_ of all places?

“Um, okay…” She turned away as he nodded, clutching her take away bag with shaky fingers. Killian frowned, watching her leave.

He jumped when a coffee was placed into his hand where it rested on the counter. Looking up to see Ruby, he raised a puzzled eyebrow.

“On the house.” She smiled apologetically.

Understanding, he nodded and thanked her, hurrying back out to his truck.

Killian spent the rest of the day anxious. Stomach cramped, knuckles white on the steering wheel, the clock finally ticked to 6:30 while he waited in the sheriff station parking lot. The streetlights were just flickering on, washing the building in fluorescent orange.

The doors opened and Killian recognized the man that had taken his package last Friday. He jogged to his car and quickly drove off, leaving the building feeling empty. Only his and one other car remained, an obnoxiously bright yellow beetle.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Killian stepped out of his vehicle and walked up to the building, pulling the glass door open slowly.

“Hello?” He called. No answer. Killian shuffled down the hall he recognized and turned into the alcove where he’d met Emma the first time. She sat in the glass office, golden hair tumbling over her shoulder while she scribbled something on a document. The door was open, so he knocked gently on the glass.

“You came.” She breathed in relief when she looked up and he nodded,

“I almost didn’t.”

Crossing her arms, she turned to him, hunching her shoulders, “I really am sorry-”

He raised a hand to stop her, shaking his head, “Don’t.”

“No, listen to me.” Killian blinked at her change in tone and it quieted him, as per her request. She stood before continuing, “Walsh wasn’t there on a date with me.”

Confused, he raised an eyebrow, “But he said-”

“I know. He… likes to show up where he thinks I’ll be.”

“Like a stalker? You’re the sheriff, can’t you arrest him or something?”

Emma shook her head, “It’s much more complicated than that.”

They stood in silence a moment, trying to read the others’ eyes. She looked frail and tired compared to when he’d seen her last and her shoulders hunching so high made her seem so small. Killian struggled against the urge to thumb away the creases in her brow and pull her into his arms.

Swallowing hard, he nodded, “I’m sorry...for what I said last night.” The pain flickered back into her eyes and he had to look away. She hesitated,

“I was actually hoping to see you there.”

Head snapping back up, he blinked at the rosy colour pooling on her cheeks, “What?”

“Do you think we could maybe have that drink sometime?” She chewed her lip and he was putty at her words.

“I would like that.” His body inched closer, but he stopped, her gravity clearly overwhelming him. Killian took a breath to clear his head, “We’ll talk about it in the morning?”

“Yeah.” Too late; her hand was on his arm and his skin was shivering under the touch. A smiled touched their lips, breathing laboured in their proximity. Killian could swear his heart was in his throat with how hard his pulse pounded.

A phone rang somewhere in the room and they exhaled, the tension in the air warming so they could both breathe,

“Um, that’ll be my room mate...I’ll just-” Emma fumbled, turning to grab it off her desk and hit the ignore button.

“I should... probably get going.” He mumbled breathlessly and she nodded,

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He lingered there a moment, both hesitating, the question of how to say goodbye in their tensed muscles. It was too much and, reluctantly, Killian turned out of the office and shuffled down the hall.

It had begun raining again, and he could hear the drops drumming hard on the roof to the beating of his heart. He rushed into the dark parking lot, turning his collar up against the cold rain. 

The sound of tires squealing struck his ears too late, and he’d barely enough time to stumble backward when a car screeched to a halt in his path. A man rose out of the driver’s seat and grabbed his lapels, dragging him to his feet. Killian tried to squirm free, but the stranger had the element of surprise and the rain-slicked tar on his side, and dragged him to the wall, slamming him into the bricks.

“Robbing someone outside the sheriff’s building isn’t the smartest idea.” He gasped, struggling to get the air back in his lungs.

“I’m not trying to rob you.” Why was that voice familiar? Killian’s eyes popped open and glimpsed the sneer plastered over the man’s face and the dark-eyed glare that burned deep into him,

“Walsh.”

“I warned you to stay away from Emma.” Fear rocked through him and he struggled to push the man off. No use; Walsh just slammed him back into the wall, an arm pressing into his throat.

“She’s not yours to control, mate.” Killian tried to laugh, but it choked around the pressure in his chest. A cruel smile touched Walsh’s lips,

“I’m not trying to control her,” He lied, “I’m trying to control _you_.”

In one swift movement, Walsh released his neck and grabbed his left arm instead; the short window gave Killian enough time to push his attacker away from him. Walsh stumbled, sliding against the wall, but held hard to his wrist. Desperately trying to wrench out of his sleeve, Killian was helpless to the now furious man. Walsh lifted his arm into the air, and his attacker’s angry shout was the last thing he knew before he was blinded with white.

A horrific snapping sound assaulted his ears and burning pain coursed through his body when Walsh shoved his arm hard into the corner of the brick building. Killian let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a scream, trying to yank free with his shoulder. Walsh let go and Killian crumpled to his knees, forearm bending at a morbid angle, blood flowing around where the bone ripped through his skin.

The rain was drumming down so hard, it was difficult to see Walsh through the downpour and the burning tears tumbling down his cheeks. Killian wildly turned his head from side to side, searching for his attacker, but unable to see any motion. 

Suddenly there was the steel toe of a boot on his back, kicking him with enough force to send his helpless body sliding a few inches on the slick tar. The rough stones scraped his right hand and the right side of his face, making tiny, smudged trails of blood on his skin. Walsh gave him another kick, to the ribs this time, and Killian doubled up, begging him to stop.

“Next time it wont just be your arm.” Walsh sneered before jogging to his car and bolting off, wheels screeching. Killian crawled his way to lean against the wall, adrenaline beginning to subside and unbearable pain taking it’s place. Rushes of white clouded his vision, his right hand shaking so hard he could barely coax the phone from his pocket.

The rain around him was lit up ominous orange from the streetlight, the glow suddenly broken by a shadow moving through the downpour, hurrying in his direction. He was caught in a tug of war between calling out for help and remaining silent, lest it be Walsh again. Yet, he hadn’t heard the car return. Fear choked his words as the figure drew closer,

“Killian?”

“E-Emma?”


	6. Day 6.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I have a computer to work on, I'm able to get back to writing fic. Here's just a little filler chapter I finished up before I get back into writing full pieces.

"Killian, what happened?" The blonde gasped, taking his broken arm in ginger fingers. She placed it across his lap to keep it out of the water collecting over the parking lot. 

Pain burned through him, his vision fading in and out of white, sharp whimpers of agony falling unbidden from his lips. He wanted to tell her, but the words wouldn’t come, instead turning into sobs. He was embarrassed at his broken, helpless state but the white heat searing his arm was overpowering, “Please help…”

“The hospital isn’t far, let me drive you.” Emma grabbed his good arm and wrenched him to his feet; Killian wobbled on his legs, blood rushing quicker out of the gaping wound. His vision blurred, and he careened back toward the brick wall, but she caught him, wrapping a firm arm around his waist. The slick tar make it difficult for his feet to find hold, but she managed to get him to her yellow beetle safely, carefully helping him into the cramped seat. 

“S-sorry for getting your car wet…” Killian mumbled when they bolted out of the parking lot and onto main street. Emma turned to look at him as if he’d grown a second head,

“Your arm is broken and you think I’m worried my car is wet?”

He tried to shrug but a new wave of pain ripped up his arm at the movement, causing him to flinch. Blood rushed to stain his shirt and jeans, the stench of iron clogging the enclosed space and churning his gut. Barely noticing when they took a sharp turn into the hospital lot, he tried to call for Emma when she pushed out of the car, his hand reaching for her, but he couldn’t see.

Her soothing reassurances were the last thing he remembered before his eyes flickered open and was met with harsh artificial light. Killian blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted to the brightly-lit hospital room. A dull ache resonated from his left forearm, now clad tightly in a white cast. He tried to bring it closer to his body, off the strangely propped pillow, but his muscles were weak and sluggish and he gave up with a sigh.

The digital clock on the far wall changed to 10:00 just as he noticed another presence in the room. A woman sat in a chair beside the door, her cheek pressed into her hand and eyelids fluttering in her sleep. It took a moment, but through the haze in the back of his mind he recognized Emma, his heart jumping and making the machine he was connected to beep loudly.

“Emma?” He called, his voice croaking as he tried to steady his heartbeat. She startled at her name, but quickly came to and jumped to his side,

“Hey, how are you doing?” Her hands sought his and he let them, getting lost in her worried green gaze.

“Just fine.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically and she smiled, “What did the doctor say?”

“it’s not as bad as it could have been.” A man smiled as he sauntered in, Emma immediately backing away to make room, “You’re lucky.”

“This is Doctor Whale, he did the surgery on your arm.” She explained and Killian forced a thankful smile.

"You're gonna have to keep that cast on for a few months, I'm afraid." The doctor said absently, paying more attention to his clipboard then Killian himself, "But as soon as Mr. Locksley arrives you are free to go."

As his name was mentioned, Robin came rushing into the room, his hair a mess and his eyes signalling that he was very close to the legal alcohol limit.

"Killian?" He asked, concerned as his eyes flicked between the three of them, "Are you-"

"I'm fine, Robin." He cut in, frankly irritated he wouldn't have time to speak to Emma alone. "What are you doing here?"

"He's your emergency contact." Emma explained, putting even more distance between them as Robin shoved his way to Killian's bedside.

"I came as soon as they called me, what happened?"

"Nothing, just got jumped." He didn't take his eyes off Emma, now leaning against the doorframe. Terror flickered in her eyes and he knew she suspected it was Walsh. If only all these people would leave, he groaned to himself as a nurse scurried in to remove his iv.

“Well did you get a look at his face?” Robin’s hand clasped on his shoulder tightened, and Killian thought he’d go mad suffocating in this room.

“I don’t know.. I just want to go home.” He swallowed, looking up at the doctor, who glanced up from his papers with a smile.

The rest of the night was a blur as the round of pain medication they injected into him began to kick in when he was signing out. He remembered vaguely saying goodbye to Emma. She’d been crying, he could tell, and he’d reassured her, again apologizing for getting her car wet. Robin talked the whole way home about finding a lawyer and opening an investigation, but Killian chose to ignore him, watching the orange glow of the streetlamps as the cab passed. 

The steady flash of warm light clouded his vision, and he didn’t remember getting to bed, but the orange glow lingered in his dreams. It cloaked monsters in darkness, horrible sounds of tires screeching and laughing so far away yet so close, hurting his ears. Killian tried to run, but he couldn’t move his legs, the shadowed creatures growing closer. They swarmed him, their piercing brown leers ripping into him.


End file.
